Winter Warriors

by Denise A. Agnew

  Chapter Five

  “Mac is okay,” Destiny said to Quinton via her satellite phone. She sat on the double bed in her room. “At least, I hope he will be.”

  Quinton’s unease came over loud and clear. “I have a feeling the situation there will go to hell quickly. You must find out what is happening and solve the problem.”

  “Why do I get the feeling there’s something more to this intrigue than you’re telling me, Quinton?”

  His gentle laugh, this time filled with appreciation, crossed the miles. “I never could keep anything hidden from you.”

  “That’s why you hired me, Quinton. I’m canny.”

  “And modest, too.”

  She chuckled and allowed herself a moment’s respite as she lay back against the pillows. “Okay, back to work. What are we up against here?”

  “If we knew exactly, I would tell you. All I know is that you should be bloody careful.”

  “All right. That’s enough for now. But if either one of us get our asses shot, blown up, or otherwise mangled, I’m coming after you.”

  “So you’re getting on with Mac? I figured if you weren’t, you wouldn’t care if his arse was chewed up in a meat grinder.”

  Getting on. She loved British phraseology, but in this case getting on sounded remotely nasty. As in sexual down and dirty. If Quinton only knew.

  “He’s okay. For a man.”

  Quinton snorted. “In other words, you’re at each other’s throats.”

  “Off and on.”

  “Huh.”

  “Speaking of getting off, I’d better.”

  Another laugh warmed her ears, and she thanked the universe Quinton appreciated her impertinent sense of humor.

  “Report in at our designated times,” Quinton said. “Or we send in the marines.”

  She grinned. “We don’t need no stinkin’ marines.”

  “Destiny…”

  “All right, all right. Roger and ten-four and all that shit.”

  He was still laughing when she shut off the phone.

  After a fast shower to ease her tense muscles, Destiny dressed in a blue sweater, black leggings, and shoved her feet into her hiking boots. She gazed around the modest room. No extra frills here, but she hadn’t expected any. A long chintz couch at one side of the room looked comfortable, and a matching chair resided next to it. An entertainment armoire featured a TV but no VCR. A small refrigerator held bottles of water. A small desk in one corner would work for the satellite communications laptop they’d brought. She checked the backpack and made sure none of their sensitive equipment had been damaged in the earlier mayhem. Everything looked fine.

  Yes, everything is fine. Except for my nerves.

  And she didn’t like it one bit.

  She looked in the mirrored closet doors and sighed. She waited for Mac with an impatience she couldn’t quite define. Something picked at her security like one of those psycho birds in Hitchcock’s movie. Not used to being this out of rhythm, she took a stabilizing breath and decided she would regain control.

  I’m an agent, and I’d better start acting like one again.

  Seconds later the door opened, and she took a defensive stance. Mac walked in with Jordan following him. Super. Was this woman going to be stuck to his butt like a carbuncle from now on? Destiny thought she detected admiration for Mac in the woman’s eyes, but that didn’t constitute a crime. At the same time, she didn’t trust Jordan.

  “Mac is in great shape and has a clean bill of heath.” Jordan smiled as she paused in the doorway. “He has a slight concussion, but nothing serious.”

  Mac stood in the middle of the room, and before he could say a word, Destiny reached for him. She slid her arms around his neck, and his arms went around her waist.

  “Cora—”

  She pulled his head down and pressed a big ole smacking kiss on his mouth. She moved back before he could respond, and he released her.

  Jordan eyed them with curiosity, as if she didn’t believe what she saw. Destiny almost groaned. She’d never been catty, but for some reason this woman brought it out in her full force.

  “If you’re hungry, there’s food in the kitchen,” Jordan said. “Just dial sixty-nine on the phone and you’ll reach my room. I can show you where the kitchen is.” She pointed to the bedside table and a spiral notebook. “Or you can look at the complex map in there and be adventurous yourself.” She winked and closed the door with a solid click as she left.

  As soon as Destiny heard Jordan’s movement down the hallway, Destiny changed her voice to a sultry mix of sex and contempt. “Just dial sixty-nine.”

  With a quickness that took her by surprise, Mac stalked toward her. He didn’t look pleased. “God, Tremayne, you’ve got to work on your wifely presentation.”

  Indignant, she planted her hands on her hips and stood her ground. “Me? What was that slip you made by calling me Destiny in the exam room? It was a good thing I was thinking quickly. I had to be to conjure the Army explanation for your kung-fu act.”

  He loomed over her with his masculinity. “Kung-fu.” He snorted. “Right.”

  “All jesting aside,” she said, “I reached Quinton.”

  After she reported on her conversation with Quinton, Mac’s gaze danced up and down her new attire. His attention fixated on her legs, then did a slow inventory on the way to her face. “Your greeting when I came in could have used some work, too.”

  “Are you finished insulting me? Because we’ve got plenty to do.”

  “Not until we get a few things straight.”

  Incredulous, she started to move away. “I don’t believe this.”

  He took her upper arm in a solid, but not hurtful grip. “Wait. Wait.” He took a deep breath and some of the tension left his face. “You remember what I said about playing husband and wife and how authentic we have to be?”

  “Of course. I’m not an idiot.”

  His eyes flashed. “I never said you were. You’re the most intelligent woman I know.” His compliment made her mouth drop open. “But you don’t have the intimacy down.”

  “Honestly, Mac, most people don’t French kiss in public. A peck on the check or the lips should be sufficient.” A panic flared inside her. “Besides, we could be a fighting couple. That would be as convincing as a loving couple. Especially with us.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Why?” Her volume went up, but she didn’t care. “We do nothing but fight.”

  “Yet you care about me, at least a little. I saw it in your eyes earlier in the infirmary. You actually looked worried.”

  Busted. “Like I said before, it was all your imagination. I was acting a part. You may be a pain in my ass, but you’re still tough. I’ll give you that much, anyway.”

  “There you go again, talking about your ass.”

  “It’s one of my more prominent features.”

  “There isn’t anything prominent about your ass, unless you count the fact I can’t keep my eyes off it.”

  The sensual teasing made her chuckle. “Now I know you’re all right. Your mouth is as smart as always.”

  Mac gloried in her admiration. Damn it if her covert glances didn’t make him half hard with longing. Destiny’s cinnamon brown eyes brimmed with apprehension for his welfare, and he noticed for the first time she wore the slightest amount of eye shadow, enough to give her beautiful eyes more definition.

  He shrugged his tight shoulder muscles and his head throbbed. While he’d experienced worse injuries in the line of duty, he didn’t like the way it limited him. He also didn’t enjoy leaving his partner vulnerable.

  He wondered how it would feel if a woman cared about him day and night for eternity. A wave of unexpected tenderness made him brush her cheek with his fingers in a lingering caress. “Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll finish what we started back at SIA. Right here. Right now.”

  A chuckle issued from her, disbelieving and mocking. “You can’t tell me that you’ve just su
rvived an avalanche and you feel like fooling around?”

  Reaching in her pocket, she brought out a tie for her hair and pulled it back into a ponytail once again. Too bad. He liked it down and flowing. He itched to feel those strands between his fingers again.

  A quick fantasy flashed through his mind. Destiny’s mouth clamped around his cock, sucking him deep as his fingers tunneled into her hair and he urged her to move faster.

  Oh, shit. Suddenly his jeans got too damn tight real quick. God, Tudor, you’re hornier than a corn dog. Forget making it with her right now. It’s distracting you from the mission at hand.

  Maybe a good, quick jack off in the shower would spew the frustration out of his system for awhile.

  He stalked across the room, opened his backpack, and started dumping the contents onto the bed. With quick, efficient movements he rummaged through items.

  As he put away clothing in the chest of drawers, he said, “Why do you try so hard to keep people away, Destiny?”

  His use of her real name generated the same effect it did earlier. Not Cora. Not Tremayne. Destiny. It rang in her ears like the true meaning of the word, as if this man would be her future in no small way.

  Frightened and intrigued by the notion, she paused. She shook her head as an answer for his earlier question, new confusion bouncing around in her psyche like a volleyball.

  He tossed the backpack in the big closet. “You don’t give an inch. It’s enough to make a man crazy.” He retrieved his toiletries kit from the bed and went into the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a minute. I’m going to get a quick shower.”

  After he closed the door, she sank onto the bed and stared at the floor like a zombie. She heard him putting away his shaving equipment and realized she couldn’t remember the last time she’d watched a man shave. Maybe because she hadn’t experienced sex in over two years.

  Two years of running from assignment to assignment kept her busy. She didn’t think about lovemaking much, not when her brain was filled with requirements for the next mission. Correction. She hadn’t thought about making love much until Mac Tudor walked into her life. Then she couldn’t seem to get sex out of her mind.

  When she heard the shower go on, her imagination kicked in. She closed her eyes and thought about how his entire body would look bare. Sure, she’d seen his naked arms, his six-pack abs and his gorgeous legs, but she ached to see it all again. An erotic image of him leaning against the shower wall, his eyes closed, ran through her mind. She licked her lips as she visualized him taking his cock in hand and starting strong pumping motions from root to tip. His breath would quicken as his moans of need would escalate and he shuddered with pleasure.

  “Oh, boy,” she murmured as wet heat pulsed between her thighs.

  Damn the man, she couldn’t get him out of her mind.

  Maybe he had brought himself to climax in the shower and it would take the edge off the high-voltage sexual force radiating in waves from him. Another bolt of stimulation went through her as she saw his cock in her mind’s eye once again.

  Then she brought herself up short. Why did she care? A lot of men strangled their own sausage, especially when they couldn’t find a partner. Maybe, if he pressed his physical needs on her again, she’d tell him to go fuck Jordan.

  Her stomach lurched at the idea and she sighed. No, that wouldn’t do.

  She didn’t want him touching Jordan.

  Destiny’s eyes widened when he stepped out of the bathroom a few moments later with nothing on but a white towel riding low on his hips.

  Well, there it is. I wanted to know what he looked like totally naked. And he is almost naked.

  Her mouth went dry. Water glistened in his hair. Moisture clung to his neck and the hair that spread over his muscled pecs and narrowed into a line spreading out again once it reached his stomach. She wanted to feel the texture and trace it with her fingers.

  Fingers, hell. She wanted to lick it.

  She desired those incredible arms wrapped around her again.

  Her gaze dropped.

  His towel covered his groin, thank God, but his powerful legs were revealed from the knees down.

  When Destiny realized she gaped at him, she snapped her mouth shut.

  He stood in the bathroom doorway. “Are you afraid of letting a man close?”

  Dazed by the sight of him, she could barely form a coherent sentence. “What?”

  She half expected Mac to smile, but instead he crossed his arms and stood there like some pagan, ancient god ready to take vengeance.

  Please let it be sexual torture.

  As the thought flew through her mind, she felt a new rush of moisture dampen her panties. A stirring ran through her belly, the deep, undeniable tickle of arousal.

  “Do you really hate men?” His question sounded almost pained.

  She swallowed and took her time answering. “Now is not the time for psychoanalysis. I have a job to do and so do you. We don’t have to get to know each other more than we do now.”

  “I want to know you.” His words stood out, framed by the extraordinary passion in his voice. “I want to know more about your mind and not just every inch of your body.” His gaze slid over her figure again, and it did nothing to lower the out-of-control feeling building strength inside her. “I like people who show me who they really are.”

  “Because you’re afraid of what you don’t know?”

  To her surprise, he nodded. “Maybe that’s the deep, dark reason. My life is an open book. There isn’t anything secret about why I do things.”

  “I know. I’ve heard all about your perfect family life. Three older sisters, one younger brother, mother and father still blissfully in love with each other. Money, education, and all the opportunities in the world.”

  “You sound resentful.”

  “My life was a bit screwed up, but I don’t blame my problems on anyone.” When he settled next to her on the bed, Destiny almost slid across the coverlet to escape.

  Practice acting like a wife, Destiny. A wife wouldn’t skitter away because her half naked husband sat next to her. Just take a deep breath.

  “Tell me more about the real you.” His voice went soft and deep, tantalizing her.

  She sighed and pulled her ponytail free. She scrubbed one hand through her hair. “Where do I start? You want my whole life story?”

  “Yeah.”

  She chuckled. “You don’t ask for much.”

  “Nothing I don’t ask of myself.”

  His revelation made her stare at him. With that incredible dark gaze never leaving her face, he made her feel protected and apprehensive all in one moment.

  You know you’re in deep doo-doo if a man can make you feel protected when he’s only wearing a towel.

  “Okay. I was born in Kansas City, Kansas to a very smart but horribly neurotic mother who spent a lot of her real estate career sleeping with clients and doing other outlandish things too peculiar to mention. My dad was my best friend in the world, and I wondered why he put up with her. He once told me he didn’t have enough guts to turn her out. And you know what? I couldn’t even dislike him for that. Even when it seemed to make him sick.”

  Mac nodded. “He died three years ago, didn’t he?”

  She didn’t bother to ask how he knew. It was probably in her file. “He was tired of a failing body and he just…let go of it. He got cancer and it ate away at him until he couldn’t take it any more. We didn’t know about it until two weeks before he died.”

  She felt his attention boring into her and a sting of tears touched her eyes. She fought against the urge to sob. What was happening to her? She never cried, and the fact he might witness the humiliation made even more tears arrive.

  Before she could do anything about it, one tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. Horrified, she swiped at it with her hand, hoping desperately he didn’t see it.

  Too late, he’d seen the tear released from the prison inside her. She took a shuddering breath and struggled to
keep the rest back.

  “Hey,” he said as he moved closer to her and slipped his arm around her. “It’s all right.”

  He brought her against his body and before she knew it, her nose was buried in that wonderful, warm, strong chest. Her fingers touched his pecs and she felt his nipples tighten. His reaction made her freeze up, her muscles locking. When Destiny felt his lips against her forehead, a sweet and affectionate kiss so heartfelt, she about cried again.

  Mac’s fingers tangled in her hair as he soothed her with another kiss on the forehead and massaged the back of her neck. It felt so good, so comforting and erotic all mixed into one devastating package. Much more of this and she’d climb all over him and beg him to take her.

  Her tears dried up in a wave of hunger so strong, she almost…almost reached out with her tongue and licked one of his nipples. Terrified by the intensity of her physical and emotional tumult, she pulled out of his arms.

  “Thanks, Mac. I’ll bet women fall for that tender man act all the time.”

  His calm look transformed into irritated. “Where the hell did you get that idea?”

  “Women in the cafeteria are always gossiping about how you took them in a supply closet and fucked the daylights out of them.”

  His smile started off small, then burst across his face as he laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding me?”

  “I’ve heard these rumors for months. For a year, if you want to know the truth.”

  He shook his head. “No, the real truth is, Destiny Tremayne, all the gossip you’ve been listening to, is bullshit. I haven’t slept with anyone at the Agency. Especially not in a supply closet. Although that sounds like a damned good idea, come to think of it.”

  She huffed. “Disgusting.”

  He laughed. “Really? You think fucking in a supply closet would be disgusting?” The disbelief in his voice added to the high temperature in his eyes. “With the right man you might find it mind-blowing. We should try it some time.”

  Another image flashed into her head of them sequestered in a closet, his cock tunneling in and out of her cunt as he held her against the wall. She shivered as molten heat swelled her labia and made her clit ache.